


Animosity

by yehetmeup



Series: Exodus Mall [4]
Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-09
Updated: 2018-12-09
Packaged: 2019-09-15 03:47:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,288
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16925889
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yehetmeup/pseuds/yehetmeup
Summary: When you transferred to the Seattle branch of Starling Apparel from California you never expected to take such an immediate dislike to one of your co-workers. But to be fair, he brought it on himself by being such an ass to you first. Sparks fly and tempers flare as you clash time and time again, neither missing an opportunity to provoke the other. But one long night locked together in an electrical closet during a power outage forces you and Sehun to reconsider your opinions of each other.





	Animosity

May 19, 1997

“Could I have a manager to the register, please?” Eli’s voice comes through the device clipped to your belt.

You sigh. Your hands pause their efficient movements and you set aside the partially re-folded pair of pants. “I’ve got it,” you say into the walkie talkie as you move brusquely to the register.

Eli gives you a sympathetic smile as you step up to the counter. Of course it’s Martha. You inwardly wince. At least once a week the older woman comes in to return half of the massive pile of things she’s bought for her family over the weekend. You can’t remember how many grandkids she’s mentioned by this point, but it must number in the hundreds.

“How can I help?” you ask with your best ‘customer service’ smile.

“Well, dear, it seems like I overestimated again,” she starts, giving you big doe eyes. She pulls out several receipts and hands over multiple bags.

You sigh, giving her a tired smile. You move her over to the next register, knowing this will take you a while. Twenty minutes and over two hundred dollars in returns later, she finally leaves. When you turn around to put the merchandise in the return bin your forehead almost collides with a firm chest.

Looking up, your smile drops as you meet Sehun’s eyes. His arms are folded and he’s staring you down with a look of complete disapproval. As always, you match his stare, not backing down.

“What do you want?” you ask harshly, shoving him to the side with your shoulder so you can put the clothes in the bin.

“You know our policy, we don’t allow more than two returns in a month,” he snaps, a look of triumph in his eyes.

You scoff, standing back up and matching his pose, folding your arms and leaning against the register. “Yes, but we have a larger, and obviously more important, policy of making our customers happy. Martha buys hundreds of dollars of clothes; even if she returns half of it like clockwork we still make a ton of money.”

“But what if other customers start thinking we’re lenient on returns and they take advantage of it? If you start making exceptions what other kinds of things are people going to think they can get away with?” he challenges.

You groan in frustration. It’s yet another variation of the same argument you’ve been having for months. You bicker about the finer points of the policy, each staunchly defending your side for the next few minutes, your voices raising steadily higher.

“And another thing,” he starts, practically growling. “Think about all the time we waste dealing with her. Couldn’t you just focus on selling to other customers rather than spending time on her?”

You open your mouth, your finger raised to emphasize the point you’re about to make, when you see Kyle approaching from around a corner. “Oh shit,” you mutter under your breath.

Sehun turns, seeing him as well. He winces and ducks his head. Kyle storms over to the two of you, putting his hands on his hips. “My office. Now,” he says with a serious look at you and Sehun. He spins on his heel and heads to the back.

You sigh and follow him, brushing past Sehun angrily. He follows behind you, so close that he’s like a shadow; your own personal black cloud. Kyle is standing with his arms folded when you walk in. He points to the two chairs in front of his desk.

“Sit. Both of you,” he demands, much more forceful than you’ve ever heard him. He’s a very laid back manager; positive, supportive, organized. Everyone loves him. If he’s mad, you must have really fucked up.

He sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. “Listen, I need you both. But not if you’re going to be at each other’s throats all the time. It’s been six months. You need to either figure out how to work together or I’m going to have to take some action,” he says wearily.

You and Sehun both make noises of frustration and sit forward in your chairs, ready to explain. But Kyle holds up a hand. “I thought it was just a rivalry thing at first. Some kind of California versus Washington bullshit. Each of you trying to stake your claim. But at this point, I don’t know. Nor do I care. Just figure it out,” he says bluntly.

He waves his hand dismissively and turns to sit back down at his desk. You and Sehun look at each other in shock for a moment before narrowing your eyes at each other in distaste. He stands up in a rush and storms from the room. You sigh and stand, going back to your folding.

Your best friend at work, Cassie, catches your eye as you pass her station at the fitting rooms. She tilts her head and pouts her lips in sympathy and you smile at her. She knows the full history of your trouble with Sehun and is totally on your side. As you get back into your routine you remember that first week once more, marveling at how horribly different things had gone than you’d hoped…

When the supervisor position opened up unexpectedly in Seattle you’d jumped at the chance. Even though you knew no one out here, even though it started the week after Thanksgiving. You were ambitious; and making a big move for the company clearly communicated that you were planning on sticking around. We like go-getters at Starlight, the district manager in California had told you when you started two years ago.

You’d been working your ass off to earn a reputation as a competent employee, a solid manager, and someone who was well-liked by everyone at your store. The Exodus Mall location called you back an hour after you’d faxed your resume in. Kyle had said you sounded like a perfect fit, they’d be lucky to have you; and after a brief phone interview he’d asked how soon you could start.

So you’d packed up your life and started a new one here in Seattle at the Exodus Mall location of Starlight Apparel. You expected your new co-workers to be cautious about you - the new supervisor from California. You’d prepared for defensive, suspicious, unfriendly even. 

But you hadn’t expected outright hostility.

You’d gone up to the register, your purse slung over your shoulder, and put on a brave smile as you greeted the man working. His dark hair was styled back, a snug green shirt bringing out his dark eyes. He looked at you and smiled, asked how he could help.

“I’m Y/N, I’m the new supervisor,” you’d informed him happily.

His gaze had turned cold as he looked you up and down. His pleasant expression had faded, replaced by something hard. As if he judged you and found you wanting.

“Oh. You’re looking for Kyle. He’s in the back,” he’d said dismissively and waved a hand behind him before turning around to work on resorts.

You’d stood there, confused and reeling from the unexpected negativity. Thankfully Cassie was also working the register and walked you back to meet Kyle. She was much kinder and you’d become instant friends. 

It’s been six months and the baffling tension between you and Sehun hasn’t lessened. Every time you pass each other for the rest of the day after your ‘meeting’ with Kyle, you glare at him.

As soon as your shift is over you head off to happy hour, shaking your head. Blood rushes in your ears as you curse Sehun furiously in your mind - the usual colorful nicknames you have for him. Asshole. Douchebag. Jackass. Sir Dicks-a-lot. You smirk at the last one, fighting the smile that tugs at your lips.

When you get to the pizza parlor you wave to Chanyeol at the register and take your usual seat, pulling out a menu as you wait for your friends. Cassie slides into the seat across from you a minute later, handing you a glass of Diet Coke. 

Your friend from the theater, nicknamed Hitchcock, is right on her heels. She pats you sympathetically as she slides in next to you. You pout and take a big drink.

“What did Kyle want?” Cassie asks with wide eyes. “He seemed really upset.”

You sigh. “He was. He told me and Sehun we need to figure out how to work together or he might have to let one of us go, or something. At least that was what he alluded to.”

She shrugs in confusion and takes a sip of her soda. “I still don’t know why he has such a problem with you. I’d never seen him argue with anyone, even feisty customers, until you arrived.”

“It’s just one of the great unsolved mysteries of the universe. Atlantis. Area 51. Sehun’s hatred of Y/N. The world may never know,” Hitchcock says in a dramatic voice and you all laugh.

May 24, 1997

The timing couldn’t be worse, you think with a groan. A busy Saturday and not one, not two, but three people called out sick this morning. And Kyle is out of town on holiday. The Memorial Day sale is drawing a huge crowd and you’re drowning.

You rub your temples, looking at the daily schedule, covered with more pencil marks than you can count. It just doesn’t work, there’s not enough people. You groan loudly. Cassie comes into the back room with a concerned expression.

“I thought I heard the sound of you about to freak out,” she says with a grin. “What’s up?”

“With everyone that’s called out, there’s not enough coverage,” you say and gesture to the schedule. “I can’t ask any of the temps to work overtime. Alex absolutely has to leave at five to pick up her kid. I’m already planning to stay late, but we’ll only have like three people here for several hours. I just – I don’t know what else to do,” you groan, dropping your head into your hands.

When you look up she’s leaning over, looking at the weekly schedule pinned to the wall. She turns to meet your distraught expression and raises a brow.

“You could call someone in, right?” she offers. “Did you already rule that out?”

You sigh and toy with the pencil in your hands. “No, I did consider it. But there’s only one person who isn’t out of town that can come in. And I’d honestly rather stab myself in the eye with this pencil than call him.”

She laughs out loud and pats your shoulder. “It’s Sehun, isn’t it?”

“It’s Sehun,” you repeat, sighing loudly. “Well, it’s either this or I develop an ability to clone people in the next twenty minutes.”

You look around dramatically, as if expecting a bunch of clones to appear. With a mumbled curse you pick up the phone and grab the call list off the wall. Cassie wishes you luck and heads back to finish running out some resorts.

You dial his number and put the phone to your ear, praying to every deity you know. Whether you’re praying that he answers or that he doesn’t, you’re not sure. After two rings the phone picks up.

“Hello?” he asks, his tone much warmer than you’ve ever heard directed at you.

“Sehun, hi. It’s me, Y/N,” you start, cheeks coloring as you stumble over your words. Why is this so hard? you think.

His tone becomes decidedly less welcoming. “What do you need? Did you forget how to do a return again or something?” he mocks.

You scoff, offended. “No, you jackass. Look, Jen, Katherine, and Randy all called out today. I know it’s a holiday weekend and it’s your day off, but there’s no one else. Can you please come in and help?” you say in a rush, desperate to end this miserable conversation.

He sighs through the phone dramatically, as if he’s oh so put out by the request. After a beat he answers. “Fine, I’ll be there in thirty minutes.”

“Thank you, I appreciate it,” you grit out, your distaste obvious.

He laughs. “Don’t worry, darling. Your love for me comes through loud and clear.”

You open your mouth the yell at him but he hangs up. You want to throw the phone across the room in frustration, but you settle for swearing at it under your breath.

He’s insufferable all day. Every time you ask for his help he pretends he can’t hear you, demanding that you refer to him as ‘my lord and savior’ before he’ll answer you.

“Sehun, can you work the fitting room? Cassie has to take her break,” you ask in a rush, arms full of clothes. Your stomach growls, reminding you that you haven’t eaten since your lunch… five hours ago.

He hums to himself loudly, folding clothes quickly into piles.

“Sehun, did you hear me?” you ask, throwing down the pile you’re carrying onto the resorts table. He still ignores you pointedly.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” you mumble, blowing your hair out of your face. “My lord and savior, Oh Sehun, would be you please go work the fitting room so Cassie can take her break?” you huff out, gesturing wildly back to the store.

He turns to look at you, raising his eyebrows. “Oh, Y/N. I didn’t see you there. Yes, of course,” he says with exaggerated pleasantness, walking past you.

You groan and briefly wonder if you can kill him and hide the body in one of the oversized trash carts. And how long it would take anyone to find it.

June 15th, 1997

It’s the worst day of the week, Tuesday, you think dejectedly.

It’s already a downright nightmare since it’s the one day of the week you and Sehun close together. But this one is especially shitty because your car is in the shop. And sure, you have plenty of friends out here now. But you hate asking for help. Hate it with a stubbornness that your father always jokingly says you get from him.

When you leave the store at ten thirty, locking the door behind you, you sigh as you remember you’re stuck taking the bus. And it’s absolutely pouring. Just dumping rain; the sound of water on concrete thunders in your ears.

Sehun comes up beside you to double check the door. Once he confirms it’s locked he gives you his usual sarcastic salute and heads off in the direction of his car. You dig in your purse for your umbrella for a moment before swearing, remembering that you left it in your car - which is at the shop. Fuck, you think.

You wrap your coat around you tighter, tying the belt, and pull your collar up as you start walking toward the bus stop. The parking lot is empty of all but a few other late night employee’s cars. You do your best to look confident as you splash toward the bus stop across the street, but it’s late. And it’s downtown. You can’t help but feel small and scared as you stand there in the rain.

The bus is due in ten minutes. You can handle ten minutes, you tell yourself. Water seeps into your coat and you can already feel your shoes getting soaked. You look around, seeing if there is any possible cover you can take, but the bus stop faces the flat parking lot. Groaning, you grit your teeth to wait it out.

A moment later a car slows in front of the bus stop. You prepare yourself for anything at night downtown – a robbery, someone looking for a hooker; anything but Sehun’s face leaning over the seat, rolling down the window.

“What are you doing out here? Where’s your car?” he asks angrily.

“It’s in the shop. What do you care?” you yell over the rain.

He sighs, looking behind him to make sure no cars are coming. “Just get in the damn car,” he orders.

You look around at the dark street. Up at the torrential downpour. Admitting defeat, you get into the car. As he drives off you just sit there, holding out your arms. As if staying really still will prevent you from being almost soaked to the bone. He reaches his hand into the glove compartment, his hand brushing your knees.

“What are you doing?” you demand, jolting at the contact.

He sighs and pulls out a wad of napkins, handing it to you. He meets your eyes briefly before turning back to the road, raising a brow.

“Oh,” you say with a laugh, staring at them. “Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it,” he says with a smug grin. You start blotting the water off of your face and hands. “Why is your car in the shop? And why didn’t you ask anyone to drive you?”

“Something with the breaks. I don’t know, but I heard they’re pretty important for driving,” you say sarcastically. “And I don’t know, I thought I’d just take the bus. I don’t like bothering anyone.” 

He opens his mouth, but you cut him off. “Yes, I know. I bother you all the time. Hah hah,” you say in a bratty voice.

“No, I was going to say that I understand,” he says and you whip your head over to look at him. “I know, it must be a once in a lifetime situation. We should both buy lottery tickets. But really, I hate asking for help. The last time I moved I tried to do it all by myself. I got stuck on the staircase trying to move the couch and finally broke down to call my friends Jongin and Junmyeon to help,” he says with a genuine laugh.

The laughter changes him completely. Softens the hard, elegant planes of his face into something more human, something glorious. You abruptly turn away from him. Seeing him like this is makes it harder to cling to the idea of him as an unfeeling jerk.

After a minute you’ve soaked through all of the napkins, holding them in your hands as you drive through downtown. “Oh, you probably need to know where I live,” you say. “Take a left on Mercer and I’m a few blocks up.” 

He follows your directions and soon you’re out front of your apartment building. You shove the wet tissues in your coat pocket and gather your purse back on your shoulder.

“Well, thanks for the ride. It was… kind of you,” you say with hesitation, as if you can’t believe the words you’re saying.

He laughs again, his eyes crinkling. “You say that like you expect me to be some kind of monster.”

You raise an eyebrow and give him a sassy look. He throws his hands up in defeat. “All right, that’s fair. There’s just something about you that brings out the worst in me,” he says with a smirk.

You feel your lips tugging up into a smile and try to stifle it. He looks so open and honest that for a moment you feel like you might be able to see him as a person and not just your nemesis.

“You know, I bet it’s just all those secret feelings you have for me that makes you so feisty, darling,” he says with a cocky raise of his eyebrows.

“Aaaand there it is. You have a good night, Sehun. Thanks for the ride and for not being a total dick for once in your entire godforsaken life,” you say with a huff and get out of the car, slamming the door behind you.

He drives off and you shake your head as you dash into the building and out of the rain.

July 14, 1997

You take a big drink of your rum and coke, finishing it in a swallow. Setting the glass down on the table, you look around the bar to find someone from your group to dance with.

You see Hitchcock standing by one of the pillars, laughing as she watches Baekhyun dance around like an crazy person. His exaggerated dance moves are just for her, you think with a grin. You shake your head, wondering if they will ever realize their feelings for each other or if they’ll remain oblivious forever.

The world tilts slightly as you make your way over to her and you groan. You can’t remember the last time you drank, and the two rum and cokes you’ve had are going straight to your head. She sees you approaching and pulls you next to her with a grin.

“Hey, how’s your night going, babe?” she asks happily before taking another sip.

“Good. I’m trying to find someone to dance with, though,” you say with a frown.

She points to Baekhyun. “Well if you’ve got the balls for it, you could try to dance with this idiot,” she says as she laughs.

“Nah, he’s all yours,” you say. She misses the emphasis in your words and looks around the bar instead.

“Okay, who do we know… who do we know, let’s see,” she says, her eyes scanning. They land on something and she gives you a smirk. “How about Sehun?”

“He’s not here, thank God. I checked. I do my best to avoid being in the same building as him,” you say emphatically.

She laughs. “Girl, I swear. Anytime there’s that much fire and passion between two people, it usually means at least one of them wants the other naked and all over them,” she says with a wink, waving a finger at you.

Your jaw drops in shock and you lightly smack her arm. “God, no. Sehun? I’d rather get it on with a rabid raccoon,” you say and wrinkle your face in disgust, pouting out your lips dramatically in your intoxicated state.

“Well, that’s unfortunate. Because he’s headed this way and he looks like sex on a stick,” she says with a tilt of her head toward the door.

You whip your head around to see him sauntering toward you, the sudden movement making your head swim. You hold out a hand to the nearby pillar to steady yourself.

Fuck, she’s right, you think. He does look like sex on a stick.

His inky black hair is slicked back off his forehead. His white button-down shirt is undone an extra button to reveal a delicious view of his chest. He’s wearing dark black jeans, black boots. Despite your immediate categorization of him as “asshole” in your mental files on the day you met him, you’ve never been able to deny how good looking he is.

He meets your gaze as he makes his way through the crowd, giving you a smirk as he takes in your body in your tight red dress. You click your tongue and fold your arms, storming off to meet him before he can reach the group. The alcohol in your veins makes you bold.

When you reach him he stops and stares you down, sliding his hands into his pockets. You uncross your arms and put your hands on your hips, staring him down.

“God, what are you doing here?” you demand, words slurring slightly.

He laughs and puts his hands on his own hips, imitating your pose. “I was invited. I closed tonight so I couldn’t get here any earlier,” he says and looks behind you, giving a nod to someone.

You look him up and down, pausing for several beats at his exposed swath of chest. When you reach his eyes he’s regarding you with amusement. You huff out a breath, blowing your hair out of your face.

“Well… I’m uninviting you. I can’t be around you like this,” you say, furrowing your brow and waving a hand up and down to indicate what he’s wearing.

“Why’s that, darling? Find me attractive?” he says with a very rude raise of his eyebrows.

You scoff and point out a finger, poking him in his annoyingly attractive chest. “Who says that anymore? ‘Darling’ sounds so dismissive and patronizing,” you demand. “I hate when you say it. And another thing…” you start.

He watches as you continue on with your rant, doing his best to smother a smile. Your eyes light up every time you argue with him. They turn from their normal color into something molten and radiant, and he can never look away. You wave your arms emphatically to emphasize your points, somehow managing to stay on your heels despite how tipsy you seem to be.

Unable to resist any longer, he cuts you off. “But are you denying the fact that you find me attractive?” he challenges. He knows full well that this will only antagonize you further, and he can’t wait to witness your reaction.

You pause midway through your thought, hands frozen, and look up at him as you wrinkle your brow. “God, you are such a smug, conceited ass. How do people stand being around you? How can anyone else fit in the room when your self-regard is taking up all available space?” you challenge, ready to launch off on another tirade.

He gives you a sarcastic look and holds his hand out to his ear. “You know, I’m still not hearing you deny it,” he says with a grin.

You groan and throw your hands up in frustration. “Oh my god, you are impossible. I can’t stand you right now.” You turn to walk away, but end up twisting on your heels and losing your balance.

His strong hands grab your waist, keeping you upright. In reaching for you he’s forced to basically pull you flush against his body. As soon as your feet are steady again you whirl in his arms, desperate to get away from the feeling of his hands on your waist. Against your will your mind latches onto the sensation of how perfectly you fit against him.

You open your mouth to say something, before thinking better of it and snapping it shut. Up this close, his attractiveness is almost unbearable. Your fury dies as you stare into his dark eyes, liquid with something you can’t identify in your hazy state. You put your hands on his, easing them off your hips.

“Thanks,” you say so quietly you’re not sure he hears it over the music.

He gives you a single nod and smiles slightly. With a last look at him you turn around, successfully this time, and head back to the table to have a glass of water. Anything to cool down the heat in your body. You tell yourself that it’s because of the alcohol, the dancing. But the reason is clear as day, and you hate him for it.

As the night goes on he turns down any offers of drinks by his friends. Instead he sets himself up at the table, drinking water. He listens to Chanyeol and Baekhyun tell drunken stories the rest of the night. But his eyes never leave you, his hands turning into fists against his thighs whenever someone approaches you, ready to step in if you need him.

Finally, just after one in the morning, you and Hitchcock catch a cab and he breathes a sigh of relief he didn’t realize he was holding. Since when do I care what happens to her? he wonders to himself in alarm. After taking a large sip of water he drops the glass onto the table harder than necessary. He sighs and then starts trying to corral his intoxicated friends out of the bar.

August 17, 1997

“God, this heat wave is a pain in my ass,” you say to Cassie as you lift boxes off the night delivery truck. “It’s after ten, why on earth is it still so fucking hot?”

She grunts as she puts the box on top of the stack. “I know, I hate this.”

Sehun walks by carrying a stack of shirts, sweat shining on his forehead. “Y/N, Cassie, always complaining,” he says sarcastically.

You glare at his back as he walks into the store. “Remind me why it’s illegal to kill him, please?” you joke to Cassie and she laughs.

Soon enough the delivery is done and Cassie heads home for the evening. Sehun starts on the shipment while you head up front to start doing the closing cash counts. You start totaling up the first register when the lights overhead flicker. Bracing yourself for the power to go out you bend down and start digging under the counter for a flashlight.

The moment your fingers slide around one, hidden behind the desktop monitor, the power flickers again and goes out. You hear Sehun’s curse from the back room and giggle to yourself as you head off to find him.

He’s back in the storage room, resting a hand against a shelving unit, rubbing his forehead with the other. You give him a dramatic pout of fake sympathy. “Aww, what’s the matter, did you hit your head?”

He growls and moves to steal the flashlight. You dance out of his grasp and walk over to the desk to find another one. He takes it and turns it on, nearly blinding you.

“We need to try the-” he starts in his usual authoritative voice, but you cut him off.

“I know, I know. The backup lights. I’ve got it,” you say and head off to the electrical closet before he can beat you to it.

You find the room in the back, in a narrow hallway. As you walk past you grab a hanger to prop the door open. You do your best to wedge it in between the wall and the door and turn around to try and remember which box has the back up switches.

You find the box along the wall and open it with one hand, holding the flashlight up so you can see what you’re doing. As you try to read the faded labels, the flashlight gives out. You smack it with the heel of your hand a few times, trying to get it to come back to life, to no avail.

You can barely see what you’re doing in the dim room, the only light coming from a small window against the far wall. You squint at the fuses, trying to find the right label. You could just go and get Sehun and use his flashlight, but your stubbornness wins out.

‘Have you still not figured it out? What’s taking so long?’ comes Sehun’s angry voice down the hallway. His imposing height and bad temper are clear even in the lowlight as he steps into the room, knocking out the hanger you’d wedged in to keep it propped open.

“Wait!” you yell and reach for the door, but it slams heavily behind him before you can get there. 

The stupid door only opens from the outside. The store itself is ancient and wasn’t updated when the mall went through renovations a few years ago. Leaning against the door, you press your forehead to the warm metal and sigh.

“Shit,” Sehun says from behind you, grabbing the handle to try and force it open, his hand dangerously close to your waist. After a few tries he gives up, leaning against the wall next to you.

“I forgot this damn thing doesn’t open from the inside,” he says, sliding down to sit on the ground. “I’m sorry.”

You turn to look at him, jaw dropping in shock. You let out a high laugh. “You know, I think that’s the first time you’ve ever apologized to me for anything.”

He lets out a laugh and drops his head to the wall behind him. “Well, there’s a first time for everything.”

You turn and lean against the door, sliding down to the floor next to him. He turns his flashlight off to save the battery. After a few minutes on the concrete your ass starts to go numb. The heat wave makes the small room unpleasantly warm. You get up and do your best to try and open the small window leading to the outside, but you’re much too short to reach it.

Sehun stands up with a grunt, coming over to stand beside you. He leans up, stretching his arms over his head and pushes it open with a huff of breath. You didn’t expect a flood of cool air, but you expected… something. At the lack of payoff you and Sehun both sigh in frustration. He returns to his spot on the floor. You walk back and forth, trying to think of other ways you might get out of here.

The heat starts getting to you and you take off your plaid overshirt, dropping it to the ground next to the door. Even in your white tank top, it’s still blazingly hot. You thought you were used to heat after living in California all your life, but you must have gotten acclimated to the cool Washington temperatures over the past several months. Remembering the week you arrived you whirl on Sehun, finally ready to confront him now that he has nowhere to run.

“Why do you hate me so much? I’ve always wondered that,” you blurt, pausing to look at him. “From the day I met you it’s been nothing but anger and animosity. What did I ever do to you?”

He stands abruptly. He bends over and pulls off his shirt, leaving him in a dark colored tank top. By this point your vision has acclimated to the gloom and you’re painfully aware of every step he takes closer to you. You feel your cheeks flush as he comes to stand entirely too close to you.

His perfectly styled hair has come undone, a drop of sweat trailing its way down the side of his face. His wide shoulders, lean arms, and sculpted chest look way too tempting this close to you. He invades your space and your body sways toward his, as if drawn by his magnetism. You finally give up on the months of resisting and allow yourself to notice him.

You tilt your head back to meet his gaze in the gloom, your heart rate increasing in response to his closeness. For several long moments neither of you speak, just breathing the same air, held in stasis inches apart from each other. You’re overcome with the sudden, wild need to know if his lips are as soft as they look.

He sighs, his breath brushing along your face. “I didn’t set out to be such an asshole to you,” he starts, voice low around you in the enclosed space. “But that day you started - ”

He winces, shakes his head to the side. With a sigh, he starts talking in a rush, much more sincere than you’ve ever heard him speak to you before. “The person who had the position before you, she and I were dating. No one knew about it, definitely not Kyle or anyone here. Not even Jun or Jongin. She wasn’t ready for anything serious. I figured out why soon enough - when her ex called her up one day, saying he wanted her back, she left. Not even a week later she was gone. No one knew why I was so hurt.”

You think back to his face that day you started. He’d taken you in, scrutinized you head to toe, and frowned as if he was disappointed that you weren’t someone else. It made sense, in hindsight, but it still didn’t give him permission to be such an ass to you. You open your mouth to tell him this, but he cuts you off.

“I know, it’s no excuse. It had nothing to do with you, I’d hate anyone who accepted the position she left, but I took it out on you. I’m sorry about that. I always meant to apologize and start over. But by the time I realized what I was doing, it was too late. And I’ll admit, fighting with you is one of the best parts of coming to work,” he says with a smirk.

He reaches out to rest his hands on your arms. “Can you forgive me?” he asks, watching your expression in the low light.

A surprised laugh escapes you. Thinking about it, you realize that you never feel as… turned on or excited as when you work with him. You smirk, tilting your head as you regard him. “Yes, but only if you don’t stop arguing with me. I think it’s my favorite part of the day.”

“That’s right, you fought with me just as much after that first week. What’s your excuse?” he asks with a grin.

You scoff. “I give as good as I get, that’s all,” you say dismissively.

Time seems to slow as you both stand there, in this surreal room in the darkness. His lips tilt up into a smirk. He can tell you’re not saying everything. Once again your eyes drop to his lips, to his ridiculously broad shoulders and firm chest. You lick your lips involuntarily.

His hands on your arms flex, moving down to your wrists. The gentle pressure on the sensitive skin there sends a wave of desire to your core.

You can feel the line you’re about to cross stretch out in front of you, the one separating your professional life and your personal life. He’s your co-worker, you remind yourself, this could make things complicated. If this goes bad work would be a nightmare.

But your hesitation goes away when you realize that he still hasn’t removed his hands. He hasn’t stepped back - hovering just inches in front of you. The smell of his sweat mixed with his cologne is going to your head in the warm enclosed space. In here it feels like another world, separate from reality.

Your gaze is once again drawn to his full lips, distracted by the thought of what kissing him would feel like. You furrow your brow in confusion, torn between common sense and pure lust.

His hands slowly trace their way back up your arms, over your shoulders, coming to rest along your jaw. You shiver, tentatively moving your hands to rest on his hips. His thumbs stroke your cheeks, giving you time to adjust to what he’s planning to do.

You bite your lip, glancing up to meet his steady gaze. Now that your eyes have adjusted to the darkness, you can clearly read the desire in his eyes. Your lust and curiosity win out. You nod twice, quickly, before you can change your mind. He jumps at the invitation, leaning over to crush his lips against yours.

For all his snarky comments and general asshole-ness, you’d never have guessed he would kiss like this. Gently, deeply, reverently. Cupping your face to hold you in place as he slowly brushes his lips along yours. You let out a noise of surprise, not knowing what to do with him and the way he’s making you feel.

He smiles against your lips and redoubles his efforts, pulling your lower lip with his teeth. Your hands tug at his shirt, whimpering with a combination of shock and desire. A drop of sweat works its way down the base of your neck. He releases your lip, pressing his sweaty forehead against yours for a moment before recapturing your lips.

The soft slide of his mouth along yours takes your breath away, literally. Pulling back to suck in a breath, you grip his waist tighter, stepping closer to press your body flush to his. Beyond caring that you’re supposed to hate him, only able to focus on how ridiculously good he feels against you.

“Fuck,” he groans under his breath against your lips before diving down to kiss you again.

Time slows down, your world narrowing to only the places on your skin he’s touching. You cling to him, the warmth between your bodies rising to a fever pitch in the heat. You feel light-headed, but for the life of you can’t figure out if it’s from the heat in the room or the way he keeps moaning softly into your mouth.

A sound vaguely registers in your mind. It’s a jingling like… a bell or something. You try and focus on it as his tongue grazes your lower lip. Wait, is that…? You pull back from Sehun in a rush and he staggers forward. 

“It’s keys!” you say triumphantly.

He looks back at you confused, his forehead furrowing. You pull from his arms and dash over to the window, looking up and cupping your hands. “Mike! Is that you?” you yell as the sound of jingling gets louder.

“Y/N? What are you still doing here?” the overnight security guard calls from outside.

“Me and Sehun got locked in the electrical closet. It’s in the back of the store by the storage lockers. The door shut behind us when we tried to find the emergency switches. Any chance you can come and let us out?”

“Sure, no problem. Be there in a minute!” he calls and you hear his footsteps and the jingling move away toward the main entrance.

You sigh in relief, then suddenly you remember what you were just doing. And who you were doing it with. When you look back Sehun is watching you quietly, running his thumb along his lower lip. 

You regard each other for a long moment and then finally you snap out of it and bend down to grab your overshirt. Doing your best to avoid his eyes you tie it around your waist.

Behind you, Sehun sighs and does the same, finding his shirt and sliding it back over his head. He comes to stand beside you as you wait for Mike, waiting with his hands in his pockets, rocking back on his heels. 

An ocean of unspoken words forms between you. This was a mistake, you want to say. Please kiss me again, you almost plead. I still hate you with a ferocity only Shakespeare could properly describe, you think. But I also want to know what that tongue would feel like between my legs. You shake your head to yourself at the war going on in your mind.

Suddenly the door is flung open and the moment is broken. You thank Mike and he heads back to his rounds. After turning on the emergency lights, you and Sehun finish up the closing duties quickly and leave the store. When he double checks your door, his hand brushes your waist as he reaches past you. You look at each other for a long moment. His eyes drop down to your lips, smirking.

“Have a good night, Y/N,” he says with a smug smile, removing his hand and walking backwards.

You groan and flip him off as you walk off towards your car.

August 25, 1997

“Have a good night!” Cassie calls as she heads out at ten.

You wave back at her and walk into the back room. You’ve been bracing yourself for this night for days, ever since the power outage. Before you’d thought it was just going to be a hassle, a whole night spent doing inventory with Sehun. But after - now you’re not sure you’ll survive it.

In the eight days since that night you kissed it feels like you could cut the tension with a knife whenever he’s around you. Every time you come within five feet of each other it seems like your body is drawn to him. And you hate yourself for it.

Even if you begrudgingly admit that he’s a fantastic kisser. And even if you admit that you’re so attracted to him the very sight of him these days makes you instinctively clench your thighs together, the point remains that he’s still an ass. And he’s been giving you knowing, sultry looks every chance he gets. Damn him, you think.

That night in the closet didn’t change anything; you still argue like two feral street cats. But it also changed everything. Every time you’ve fought since then he’s given you an appreciative smile. His eyes have followed your every move, caging you in with his attention. Despite your best efforts, you like it. A lot.

You steel yourself as you walk over to grab your clipboard and pen. The staff had shelved all day, putting out all the merchandise they could, organizing and straightening. Now you and Sehun have just eight hours, one overnight shift, to count the whole store.

He looks up from where he’s counting boxes of back stock and gives you a wink. You groan in frustration and his lips tilt up into a smirk. Doing your best to ignore him, you start at one corner of the store, bobbing along to the music playing over the speaker as you count. 

You’re six racks in when he comes over to join you, gently resting his hands on your arms. After a beat he slides them down to hold your hips.

“Sehun, we – I – ” you start, his hands on you making it hard to think. You swallow harshly and grab his hands, throwing them off you as you turn around. His intense look nearly makes you whine in frustration. How on earth are you supposed to think when he’s looking at you like that?

“Sehun, that’s not going to happen again. It was a mistake. One that should not be repeated,” you say in a rush, backing against the wall as he continues his advance.

“Hmm, I’m going to disagree. I think it was an excellent idea. And I think it should happen as often as possible. Right now, for instance,” he says with a grin, reaching for you.

You scoff and slide out of the way, moving so there’s a rack of clothes between you. “It was a terrible idea and I fully maintain that the only reason it happened at all is because we were both too hot to function rationally.”

“Oh come on, we could be like… enemies with benefits,” he says with a smug grin. He moves around the rack to face you, leaning against it with one arm and giving you a knowing look.

“Exactly! You said it yourself – enemies. Whatever this is between us, it doesn’t change anything,” you say emphatically, throwing your arms into the air.

He steps closer, invading your personal space. With a deadly smirk he drops his hand to your hip and pulls you against him. His other hand slides along your neck to cup your head, tilting it to one side. He dips his head to kiss the spot where your neck meets your shoulder.

“Are you sure it doesn’t change anything?” he murmurs, his lips ghosting along your neck, his hot breath sending shivers down your spine. You gasp, arching your back, pressing harder against him. Your hands find his shoulders, clutching him as your knees waver.

He pulls back, opening his mouth to say something, a mischievous gleam coming to his eyes. You groan and cover his mouth with your hand.

“I swear to God if you open that mouth to make some inappropriate, rude comment, I’ll murder you in cold blood,” you demand, staring him down.

He waits patiently, watching you with eyes that are full of heat. After a beat you sigh, unable to find a reason to care anymore, to make yourself resist the need growing within you. The opportunity to discover if the rest of his body is as talented as his lips is far too tempting. You pull back your hand and trace your thumb slowly along his lower lip. 

“Besides, there’s much better uses you could put it to,” you say with a raise of your brows, your lips tilting up into a seductive smile.

He grins and takes your hand, pulling you to the back, out of the view of the cameras in the store. You trail along behind him, laughing in your excitement. He pulls you back into the storage locker and your ass comes to rest against the wide wood desk in the back. He rests his hands against the desk behind you, caging you against him.

“Are you sure?” he asks, his face hovering inches from yours.

You smile up at him, stretching up on your toes to wrap around his neck, bringing your bodies flush against each other. “I’m sure,” you say and tilt your head, pressing your lips against his insistently.

He smirks against you and grips your hips, holding you to him. Despite the fact that you argue like an old married couple, you find that once again your bodies are in perfect synch. Maybe that’s the key with him, you think wryly as you kiss him. We just have to stop talking to each other.

After a minute his hands trail around the front of your body, moving up your torso to your ribs. His thumbs find your nipples through your shirt and start tracing a lazy pattern back and forth. You hiss against him, trying to come up with some way to retaliate.

With a grin you hop up on the desk behind you and pull him closer by his belt loops. You grind your hips slowly against his growing erection and he groans into your mouth. He pulls back after a minute, his eyes dark.

“We really should have done this sooner,” he says with a smirk.

“You forget that we kind of hate each other,” you tease, pulling him down so you can suck his lower lip between your teeth.

He groans. “Oh, right. That,” he says around your hold on his lip.When you finally let him go he darts his own tongue out to soothe the bite. 

“Yes, that,” you repeat, waiting to see what he does next.

“So, are we going to do this or not?” he asks, his hands flexing against your thighs as he leans over you. “I want you so bad I can hardly see straight. But it’s up to you,” he says with a deep breath.

You look up at him through your lashes as you move your hand to the front of his pants, stroking him through the fabric. “Do what?” you ask with mock innocence.

He closes his eyes, bracing a hand against the desk as he leans into your ministrations. When he looks back he shakes his head in amusement. “You know damn well what.”

You move your hands to the edge of your jeans and slowly undo the buckle. You kick off your shoes before pushing off the desk, coming to your feet, meeting his eyes as you unbutton and unzip your jeans. You slide the jeans down your legs and kick them away. 

“Ohhh, you mean this?” you say dramatically as you grab his wrist and guide his hand to cup you over your panties.

He starts stroking around your clit, just enough pressure to make your eyes fall closed but not enough to be satisfying. You moan in frustration but he just laughs.

“Sorry, darling. You’re going to have to say it,” he says, teasing as always.

Your eyes flare open. In a mix of lust and frustration you grab his shirt in your hands and pull him flush against you. “Fine. God, you are insufferable,” you laugh. 

“Sehun, I want you to fuck me on this desk. Now,” you say in a rush, raising an eyebrow in challenge at him. “Let’s see if you’re as good as you clearly think you are.” 

Triumph flares in his eyes. He slips his hand up and into your panties, his fingers stroking along your slit. He smirks when he feels how wet you are. You open your mouth to sass him again, but he dips a finger inside you and the words die on your tongue. You brace your hands on the desk behind you, opening for him.

He adds a second finger, sliding in and out in a feverish pace, his palm adding a maddening pressure to your clit. After a minute of this you’re so keyed up with desire that you could burst. 

“Wait, stop,” you manage to get out.

His hand stills, his intense gaze locked on yours. His breathing is uneven too, both of you gasping in huge breaths. “What is it?” he asks, his voice ragged.

You pause for a moment, in disbelief at the words you’re about to say. But you’re so far past caring by this point you just spit them out. “I want to come around you, not your fingers. You’re clean right?”

His eyebrows shoot up his forehead in shock, licking his lips as he looks down at you, wet and ready for him. He nods, pulling his fingers from you and bringing them to his lips. With a swirl of his tongue he cleans your juices off and you almost moan at how insanely sensual he makes it look. He makes quick work of his jeans, unbuttoning them and sliding them down to his ankles along with his boxer-briefs.

You squeal in surprise as he lifts you by the backs of your thighs, depositing you back on the table. He comes between your legs, positioning himself at your entrance. You brace yourself, biting your lip as he slides into you in one fluid motion, your slickness offering no resistance. He drops his head to your shoulder, pausing as he’s lodged fully inside you.

“Fuck, you feel so good. You’re going to have to come fast or I’m going to lose it in you,” he says with a laugh.

“Well, you’re just going to have to get me off fast, then,” you counter with a laugh.

He pulls back with a smirk. “Challenge accepted.”

He grips your knees, pulling you to the edge of the desk. He pulls out once, slams back into you, and then sets a rapid pace. You choke out a moan, losing the ability to speak as he pounds into you. At this angle he hits just the right spot inside of you, sending you spiraling rapidly towards your completion.

You spread your legs wider, desperate to have him as close as possible. Breathy, erratic moans fall from your open mouth; your eyes closed tightly as you hang on, fingernails scratching along the desk behind you. His broad hands grip the flesh of your ass, pulling you roughly against him to meet his thrusts.

“Come for me, darling,” he commands, his voice rough. 

That damn nickname. It normally drives you mad, makes your blood boil. But here, with his face buried in your neck, with him deep inside you, it drives you mad in a completely different kind of way. In this unexpected, intimate moment the whispered endearment sets you over the edge.

Your head falls back, your eyes rolling as your orgasm hits you in a rush. A string of high, unintelligible noises tumble from your mouth as he keeps up his pace, drawing out the sensation. After a long moment the friction turns the pleasure in your core almost painful with how good it feels. In a rush you move your hands to his waist to let him know you can’t take any more.

Reading your cue he stills, pulling out of you as gently as he can. You ease him back enough so you can hop off the desk, wobbling for a second before you find your balance with a wry smile. In a fluid motion you slide down to your knees in front of him, grabbing him in your hand. He lets out a curse as you take him in your mouth, swirling your tongue over his tip, still wet from you.

You add a hand, stroking him as you suck him. His hands brace on the desk behind you and you can tell he’s close by his grunts. His hips buck wildly against your hand and you let him take over. A moment later he finds his release with a groan. 

You swallow several times before cleaning him up with your tongue. He finds your elbows with his hands, pulling you up to rest against him as you both catch your breath. 

After you both calm down you pull back to start putting your clothes back on, stunned by how comfortable the silence is. You slide on your jeans and buckle them as he does the same, watching you with an expression that’s surprisingly warm.

“Well, I guess we should finish the inventory,” you say with an ironic grin as you finish slipping your shoes back on.

“If we go fast enough we might have time for another round,” he says and raises his eyebrows at you. You laugh and dash back to where you’d left off counting, shaking your head in amusement.

November 1, 1997

You wake up in Sehun’s apartment, huffing out a breath and blowing your hair from your face. You spent the night, as has become your routine after you both close together on Fridays.

Blinking in the early morning light you slip out from under his heavy arm, covering your mouth to smother a laugh at his messed up hair. After locating a shirt you walk into the kitchen, yawning.

Unlike other Saturdays, though, there’s a surprise waiting for you. A small envelope is leaned up against the coffee maker. Open me, darling reads the outside of the card. You smile to yourself and flip it open. Much like the man itself the words inside are sweet and to the point. I’d be honored if you’d go to prom with me.

Two conflicting emotions rise within you. Pleasure that he wants to go with you to the prom that the mall is throwing, spearheaded by your friend from Barada Pizza. It sounds like a fun evening, a chance to get dressed up and dance with all your friends. You’d planned on going solo with some of the other girls. But it looks like Sehun has other plans.

The other feeling in your gut is doubt. Confusion, because you thought your relationship as… enemies with benefits was simple. At least it started off that way a few weeks ago. Sleep together a couple times a week, at his place or yours. Don’t let anyone know what you’re doing in your off hours together. Definitely don’t spend the night. 

It was just sex. Amazing sex, but just sex.

But then one night he’d come over with pizza and a movie and you’d spent the night laughing together on the couch, his arm behind you. And the next time you were yawning so much he’d demanded that you spend the night, insisting that you were way too tired to drive home. 

Things had snowballed from there. One or two nights became three or four. Spending the night had blurred into having breakfast together more often than not. You’d started leaving a change of clothes and some products at his place.

Somehow that instinct to argue with each other seems to melt away the second you leave work each day. You learned that he has a soft spot for classic Hollywood movies. That he keeps a picture of his parents in his wallet, from their wedding day, and that he calls them every Sunday like clockwork to catch up. 

Despite your initial hatred of each other, and the animosity of the past nine months, since that night in August you’d grown close. But… prom? Does that mean he just wants to take you to the dance, or does it mean something more? 

You purse your lips, setting the card down gently on the counter as you start the coffee like normal. Once it’s ready you prepare two cups and head back to the bedroom.

Sitting cross-legged on the bed you nudge Sehun’s shoulder with your elbow. He opens his eyes and blinks up at you, smiling when he sees you holding a cup out to him. He brushes a kiss to your knee before sitting up; his lean, broad chest on display. With a yawn he takes the coffee from you, watching you over the rim as he takes a sip.

“So, did you find anything interesting in the kitchen?” he asks, feigning ignorance.

You smile to yourself as you take a drink. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

He gives you a knowing look. “So, what do you say? Will you go to prom with me?” he asks, an unexpectedly shy look on his face.

You furrow your brow. “I’d love to go with you. But… do you want to go with me as, like, a friend? Or as something more?” you stutter, a blush rising in your cheeks.

“How would you feel if it was the second option?” he asks softly.

You whip your head around to look at him, meeting his eyes. The look he’s giving you is so full of feeling that you almost drop your coffee. “But… we hate each other, right?”

He laughs, his whole face lighting up. “I never felt hate towards you. I feel a lot of things for you, but they’re a lot closer to that other four letter word these days,” he says, his smile widening as your mouth drops open in shock.

You sit there and your mind flashes back over the past few weeks. Is it possible that you might not hate him anymore? That you might feel something else entirely? 

All you see when you think about this summer and fall, is Sehun. His handsome face smiling at you over breakfast. The sweet way he folds you in his arms, pulling you back against his chest when you watch movies on his couch together. The look he gives you when you have sex now, so open and full of something dangerously close to love.

With a sharp inhale of breath you realize that he’s right. Without even realizing for it, you’ve fallen in love with him too. You look back at him, your eyes widening at this epiphany. He grins at you over his coffee, waiting patiently for you to catch up. You smother a smile, and take a sip.

“I mean, that second option sounds fine. I guess,” you say with mock casualness and shrug.

He raises an eyebrow in challenge, setting his cup of coffee on the side table. He moves up to you, drawing an arm around your back and pulling you flat on the bed underneath him. With his face close to yours he takes the cup from your hand and sets it on the dresser next to you.

Unable to contain it anymore you bring your hands to his face and pull him down for a kiss. He grins down at you, his eyes alight with warmth. He leans down to kiss your lips, trailing over your jaw and down to your neck.

“I’ll show you fine,” he growls and kisses your neck. A giddy laugh escapes you as you throw your arms around him and pull him back up to you.

March 1, 1998

You swallow nervously, tucking your hair behind your ear. Tilting your head around the corner you can see Kyle sitting at his desk, yawning as he starts on the morning’s reports. Today’s the day you tell him about your relationship with Sehun. You wanted to wait six months, to make sure it wasn’t going to implode in both of your faces.

Sehun wanted to tell him the day after prom, you remember, smiling to yourself. But for once you exercised sound judgment around Sehun. You forced him to take you on dates. Made him meet your parents. He’d whined, but you didn’t miss the fond look he’d given you. And now here you are, five months later, wildly in love.

This time around, you don’t let him keep it a secret. You’d told your friends at happy hour one night in January. Chanyeol, Baekhyun, Hitchcock, Cassie, and Jongin were all talking and laughing as you and Sehun brought over the first round of drinks.

You’d come around the table and sat on Sehun’s lap and they all watched with a mixture of confusion and excitement as you told them that you were dating. Jongin nearly spit out his drink. Cassie smirked at Hitchcock and they said they both knew something was going on. Chanyeol and Baekhyun, no strangers to relationship drama themselves, just raised their beers in cheers and took a drink in your honor.

Now the time has come to finally go public at work. You’re both supervisors, and you didn’t see anything in the HR code that prohibited people of the same position from being together. The only thing that’s banned is a manager dating someone beneath them. When you’d come to that part, Sehun was reading the packet over your shoulder. His hands had gripped your hips and pulled you back against him in the kitchen of his apartment.

“I’ll show you who’s underneath whom,” he’d teased in your ear and you’d slapped his hand in mock anger, laughing as he pressed a kiss to your neck.

You’re not sure where he is. He was supposed to meet you here at seven to talk to Kyle before anyone else arrived. Finally, you hear him coming down the hall, his sneakers sliding the floor as he rounds the corner. You grin when you see him. You can’t help it these days, something about him just makes you insanely happy.

He walks up to you and grabs your hand behind your back, pressing a quick kiss to your cheek. “Sorry I’m late. Are you ready?” he asks, carefully watching your reaction.

You know he’s asking about more than just telling Kyle. He wants to know if the past few months had meant as much to you as it did to him. And if you think this relationship is something you want to take a chance on; if the risk is worth it professionally.

Without hesitating you nod, leaning up to kiss him on the cheek in return. “Let’s do it.”

You squeeze his hand and pull him into the room before knocking on the open door. Kyle turns and sees your joined hands, reading the confident yet bashful expressions on your faces. He lets out a laugh.

“Is it April fool’s day already?” he asks with a grin, leaning back in his chair.

You move into the room and stand in front of him, pulling Sehun with you. “No, it’s not. We’ve got something to tell you,” you say, smiling softly as you look over at Sehun.

He winks at you and turns to Kyle. “We’re seeing each other. Have been for the past few months, and we figured it’s time to make it official.”

Kyle widens his eyes in shock, taking in again your hands and the obvious love you have for each other. After a beat he claps his hands together and starts laughing hysterically. Once he can breathe he looks at you both.

“I’m so sorry, I don’t mean to laugh. But that first year you worked together, I really thought one of you would kill the other. And now you’re dating?”

He grins at you and stands. He reaches out his hands and claps you both on the shoulders. “I’m happy for you both,” he says sincerely.

“Thanks,” you reply. “I’m pretty happy too.”

Sehun looks over at you with a grin. “You better be,” he says in a dry voice.

You laugh and tug him out of the room. “Thanks Kyle!” you call out. 

You drag Sehun down the back hallway, turning at a small door at the back. He grins and grabs a hanger from the bin as you move toward the electrical room.


End file.
